Make It Count
by ChimeBells
Summary: He'd always known this moment would come, but at least he had been able to make it count as the happiest night of their lives. Warning: Character death.


In retrospect, Blaine had always known this day would come. No one person can be around forever, no matter how much you love them and want nothing more than to be with them for the rest of eternity.

He'd known, as he watched his boyfriend grow tired day by day, that the moment would come when he'd have to say goodbye. It hadn't kept him from hoping so, so much, and even giving into the unfamiliar practice of praying for this day to never arrive.

As he held Kurt's hand while sitting beside his hospital bed in a creaking, hard plastic chair, Blaine thought back to the very beginning of the fight they'd faced together for three long years, only to come out in the end on the losing side.

He and Kurt had been fresh out of college, living in a small, but comfortable apartment in New York, both with promising futures ahead of them as Kurt got cast in Broadway's latest hit musical and Blaine directed his own independent play that was bound to bring Manhattan to its knees. They had both been very busy for the first months of the year Blaine turned 22 and Kurt tuned 23.

Then Kurt came down with a cold, staying in bed with a high fever for a couple of days, and Blaine managed to leave work early in order to take care of his boyfriend and cuddle with him to make him feel better.

A week passed and Kurt didn't feel better. He got up every morning and went to rehearsals ad performed as perfectly as always, but when he got home at night, about to pass out from exhaustion, Blaine was the one to give him massages when his body hurt all over, and to rub his back comfortingly as he threw up his dinner every other night, passing it up as nerves from his performances,

After a month, Blaine had had enough of seeing the man he loved hurt.

They had been curled up on the couch, watching some rerun of Project Runway on a Friday night, and Kurt had been nodding off for the past ten minutes, fighting to stay awake in order to spend time with his boyfriend.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, running his fingers softly across his lover's pale cheek.

"Hmm?" Kurt mumbled back quietly.

"I want you to go see a doctor," Blaine said, bluntly, "I can see that you're suffering, love, and I'm getting worried about you," he confessed.

Kurt moved so that his head was lying on Blaine's lap and he was looking up at his boyfriend, his beautiful glasz eyes sparkling.

"Blaine, I'm just stressed about the musical and overworked from this rehearsal schedule which seriously resembles something out of Sue Sylvester's Cheerio practice agenda." He stated, earning a small chuckle from Blaine, which made him smile, "Really, don't worry your pretty little gel-covered head about this. I'm fine."

And with that, they'd gone back to watching whatever show had just started on the TV. Well, Blaine had gone back to watching, while he stroked Kurt's hair gently as the man lay asleep on his lap.

A couple of months passed and Kurt seemed to get better. He still seemed very tired all the time, but he wasn't getting sick as frequently and his body didn't seem to be in constant discomfort. In his mind, though, Blaine still had a little pull of worry pestering the back of his brain.

The last straw was during a gathering of ex-New Direction members at a small restaurant in the city. Rachel had invited the group to celebrate the opening night of Kurt's musical on Broadway earlier that night, in which he had performed outstandingly, and they had all been having fun. Blaine hadn't commented in the fact that Kurt had been unusually quiet for most of the night, figuring that his boyfriend was probably very tired after putting on such an amazing show. At one moment, Kurt had excused himself to the bathroom, and conversation continued normally between the former gleeks until 30 minutes later, when Blaine expressed his concern for the fact that his boyfriend was yet to return, and decided to go check on him, only to find him passed out on the bathroom floor, a lump already forming on his head where he had hit it when he collapsed.

From then on, everything Blaine's memory supplied him with was the ride on the ambulance, and the waiting room filled with Kurt's and his friends, and the doctor coming out with a solemn look on his tired face and asking him to speak in private.

As the middle-aged oncologist explained to him the reason his boyfriend had been sick and exhausted lately, Blaine had tried to deny it with all he had. He had tried to reason with the man and with himself that this was just too improbable to happen to Kurt. Too tragic to happen to them. He had delayed for as long as possible the realization that the angel lying in a hospital bed three rooms down the corridor had some form of cancer destroying his cells that very minute.

But then Blaine had seen his lover's sunken eyes and pale, no, translucent skin, and just known that the love of his life wouldn't be there forever anymore.

Rachel had held him that night as he'd sobbed well until sunrise, before going to break the news to Kurt, in turn, holding him as he cried.

Kurt had started chemotherapy two days later. At first, he'd responded well to it, and they'd both had as much hope and optimism as the situation would allow. But after six months, the cancer had started to spread again and Kurt's body had simply stopped fighting it.

They had sent Kurt home, telling Blaine to make him comfortable. That night, Blaine had cried again, certain that he had no time left with Kurt.

The next six months proved that Blaine needn't have worried, for Kurt stayed alive and as well as possible, in his condition. He was tired and constantly needed to go on bed rest for a few days, but they managed.

A couple of years passed and Blaine hurt everyday as he watched Kurt do his best to hide his pain from him, sparing him as much as his weary body would allow.

After three years of relentless fighting against the cancer, one day Blaine had come home from work to find the man he had been planning to propose to that night hunched over the bathroom sink as violent coughs ripples through his fragile body and brought rivers of dark red blood to stream from his mouth. Blaine had taken one look at the tears running down Kurt's face and forced himself not to panic, calling 911 immediately and sitting with his lover for the 5 minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive.

Blaine's eyes wandered to the unconscious man before him and clenched shut again, preventing any tears from falling. He held a hand to his racing heart as he wondered why, if he's known all along that this moment would come, did it hurt so damn much to see Kurt lying there, very probably on the sterilized, lumpy hospital mattress that would become his deathbed.

Deep down, he knew why. It hurt because, as he looked at Kurt, he saw so much more than just a stunning young man. Blaine saw the man who would never walk down the aisle towards him on the wedding day he'd always dreamed of. He saw hundreds of opening nights he'd never get to attend in order to support the amazing lead actor Kurt would always have been. And he saw an entire life he'd never get to share with the man of his dreams.

Later that night, Blaine sat holding Kurt's hand as the sick man's eyes flickered open slowly, and his head turned towards his snoozing boyfriend.

"Blaine?" He called in a small voice. It was enough, though, to startle Blaine out of his nap, his hands squeezing the limp fingers between them like a lifeline.

"Kurt!" He breathed, "Oh, love, how are you feeling?" He questioned, taking one hand to caress Kurt's long since hairless head. The loss of hair that came with the chemo had been very hard on Kurt, but the man had strictly prohibited Blaine from shaving his own head in support. He hadn't been able to keep other ex-New Directions members from doing it though, and Blaine would never forget the tears of happiness his lover had shed as his brother, along with every other gleek guy had turned up in their apartment to show off their newly hairless heads.

"Tired," Kurt confessed. He sighed, staring intently at their intertwined hands for a minute, before looking up at Blaine and asking, "Did you ever want to get married?"

Blaine wanted to cry, because he could feel the little velvet box in his pocket pressing against his thigh in mockery of what he knew he would never have.

"Yes," he said, "It's all I've always wanted…to marry you and grow old together…" He chocked out, his voice breaking. Blaine drew in a long breath, gathering the courage to take the box from his jeans pocket and hold it out in front of him, after getting down on one knee in front of the bed, "Kurt, I love you more than I've ever have, or ever will love anyone in this life. I want nothing more than to have the honor to call you my husband," opening the box to show a beautiful, silver engagement ring, he finished, "Will you marry me?"

Just like that, there were tears falling down both of their faces, and Kurt gathered up whatever strength he had in him to throw himself off the bed and on top of his fiancée screaming "yes" as loud as he possibly could. It wasn't perfect, but it felt just like the moment with a romantic dinner and candlelight Blaine had planned for this. After slipping the ring on Kurt's finger, Blaine carried the man back to the bed, lying down with him, and they spent the night kissing and caressing each other like love-stricken newlyweds.

The only regret Blaine would carry forever from that night would be falling asleep, only to wake up in a life where his fiancée was no longer alive. But he'd always known that moment would come, and at least he had been able to make it count as the happiest night of their lives.


End file.
